This is a summary of the discussion at a workshop held on 7 May 2024 by the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies (GCMC) in Berlin, Germany. The summary reflects the overall tenor of the discussion, and no specific element necessarily should be presumed to be the view of any of the participants. 

Introduction

Recent studies highlight alternative Russian future scenarios, notably: Clingendael’s “After Putin, the deluge?” (September 2023); The Atlantic Council’s “Five Scenarios for Russia’s Future” (February 2024); Konrad Adenauer’s Stiftung’s “Russia Beyond 2023: Scenario Landscape” (March 2024); and most recently, Stephen Kotkin’s“The Five Futures of Russia: And How America Can Prepare for Whatever Comes Next” (April 2024). Certain scenario types are apparent: 1) Russia as a victorious retrenched imperialist power (Russia’s preferred and official vision of the future), suggesting perpetual Putin leadership, regime and political system continuity; 2) Russia reformed and reconciles with the West, suggesting a post-Putin regime and political system change, with Russia as France – a polar oppose of the present (“Neither Putin nor Putinism”); 3) Russia as a weaker dependent vassal or proxy of China, suggesting Putinism still exists, with perhaps a “paramount Putin” in the shadows; 4) Russia as a neo-Stalinist, isolated, North Korea-like “hermit kingdom”, once again experiencing full-scale gulags and “forced modernization”; and, 5) Russia descending into civil war, anarchy and chaos after either steady decline or suddenly (“loose nukes and warlords”).

These studies make assumptions regarding the importance of and relationship between structure and agency in Russia. Our own contention: “lessons learned” from Russian history creates a shared understanding of national interest. This, in turn, translates in Russia into an imperial political and strategic culture which shapes its broad foreign and security policy goals. State control of key institutions (not least, the education system, media, and the Russian Orthodox Church) enables any regime to create and disseminate narratives that justify its own foreign and security policy choices. Within the broader regime, any given leadership (Putin and his “inner circle”) will be guided by their own philosophical and instrumental beliefs in calculating risk, determining courses of action and selecting the means to achieve these ends.

Session 1: Putin’s Evolving 5^th/1^st Term Regime: Elites and Ideology?

Putin’s regime gradually evolves from being authoritarian to more totalitarian, more repressive and anti-western in nature. First, the elite appears ideologically unified at least in public (behind the scenes there are still important differences), but tactically divided, as the detention of Deputy Defense Minister Timur Ivanov (“Shoigu’s wallet”) on 23 April 2024 evidences. Second, Putin uses social transfers strategically to buy the loyalty of key social strata/groups in society, and war spending also creates financial winners in Russian regions actively involved in the war (higher salaries, benefits etc.)  Third, selective and calibrated repression targets those that are neither true believers or whose loyalty can be at least rented. 

In the 1990s to 2012 elections meaningfully structured political cycles and policies, but thereafter regime dynamics uncoupled from presidential terms. Putin’s presidential inauguration in 2012 was a focal event, marking as it did a shift from legal rational to historical-charismatic legitimation of his political authority, which translated into annexation of Crimea in 2014 and subversion in Donbas. In 2020 Putin eliminated presidential term limits to lengthen the time horizon of his personalized authoritarian regime and the full-scale multi-axis attack of Ukraine in February 2022 set its parameters. Putin will not be looking for a successor simply because the next term ends in 2030. 2030 will only be meaningful for regime dynamics if something disruptive happens, such as Putin‘s natural death or physical/mental incapacity, a series of mutinies, a coup d‘etat, or massive elite defections to an alternative emerging power center. 

Does Russia have an elite, or do we see the emergence of neo-Stalinist nomenklatura lacking autonomy, dependent on Putin, with influence over others but not policy, where decision-making is Putin’s preserve, and with no common vision of the future? Revealingly, 50% of respondents at the 2023 St Petersburg Economic Forum could not answer the question: “In your opinion, is the current economic policy of the Government of Russia consistent with the concept of Russia’s sovereign development or not?”  Putin is certainly the chief arbiter of patronal networks, and the networks themselves function to demonstrate loyalty and to comply with Putin’s top-down decisions. Factionalism, however, is within bounds beneficial in terms of regime survival as it highlights the necessity of Putin’s arbitration and reinforces the notion that Putin is the sovereign decision-maker, the vozhd, the strong-man leader.   That Navalny and Prigozhin were non-systemic potential alterative centers of decision-making power explains why they were murdered. Putin’s main task will remain to prevent at all cost any alternative centers capable of coordinating collective action.

In December 2022, Putin called for economic, financial, technological and “cadre sovereignty”. A new elite, demonstrating loyalty by deeds not just words, should emerge and the full-scale war (“Time of Heroes” leadership program) provided the opportunity for upward mobility. However, by 2024 the impact of the reform of the federal cadre reserve initiated in 2012 remains doubtful. The presidential cadre reserve has proved more susceptible of patronage lobbing than any sense of meritocracy. Putin’s elite is conservative and hermetically resistant to renewal. So far, neither military service nor stints in “occupation administrations” in Ukraine have led lead to significant upward mobility of veterans or public servants. On the other hand, Putin is set to move forward with gradual generational change within the elite to ensure regime reproduction beyond his rule. But this is a challenging process fraught with risks, and the elite is subject to at least six sources of factionalism, namely: 1) age-cohort differentiation; 2) presidential versus prime ministerial  hierarchy in the dual executive, with the latter more meritocratic than the former; 3) federal center-periphery/regions (mounting deficiencies of the power vertical); 4) dynastic vs other forms of patron-client relations (competing mechanisms for the creation of a post-Putin elite); 5) challenges to counter-balancing bureaucratic agencies and clans due to regime personalization and its fraught feedback mechanisms; 6) private vs state ownership (increasing pressure on private property via forced de-privatization or nationalization campaigns while at the same time private business ensures flexibility to circumvent sanctions).

Ideology in Russia has a number of functions. It can “future-proof Putinism”, provide Putin with a legacy that will not be instantly dismantled by his successor, as well as shape Russian foreign policy choices and on the “home front” produce a new generation of patriotic, conservative youth. Putin stated in 2019: “Liberalism is obsolete”. Liberalism is rejected across the board: as a universalist philosophy, as a liberal-democratic political system, as a set of values based on individual rights, and as a geopolitical project (the ‘liberal international order’, the ‘rules-based order’). This rejection is rooted in a combination of Russian and European radical conservative ideas and values, including neo-Slavophile ideas, Russian Orthodox thought, European counter-revolutionary ideals, and the German ‘conservative revolution’ of 1920s/1930s.  This idea slowly moved from marginal position in 1990s to mainstream orthodoxy today, encouraged both by internal activism and by international environment.

Ideological production in Russia is led by the political leadership, security officials and political technologists, and supported by philosophers and activists. Putin is both the disseminator of ideas and the consensus-shaper, with inputs from senior security officials, including Patrushev, Naryshkin, Bastrykin, and Medvedev. The presidential administration has a near monopoly on institutionalised ideological production, with First Deputy Head Sergei Kiriyenko in the lead, overseeing everything from new Soviet-style youth movements to ensuring that music, film and theatre aligns with the new wartime ultra-patriotism. Radical conservative philosophers (e.g. Dugin, Prokhanov; Malofeev, Mikhalkov, and Narochnitskaya) and activists, form the support cast, with the former providing the intellectual frameworks and genealogies, the latter representing Russian nationalist networks, with links to the Russian Orthodox Church. A more free-wheeling backdrop of extreme, militarized content is available online in the military/PMC media space on Telegram and other social media sites. 

The rejection of liberalism and Russification of cultural production is advanced through the education system, cultural and social spheres. Russia’s old cultural elite is being purged, while patriotic projects promoted, and in the social sphere the regime attempts to consolidate society in opposition to   minorities through anti-LGBT campaigns and other repressive measures. In schools, this drive is evidenced by the emergence of youth organisations such as the “Movement of the First (“Движение первых”) and new courses (“Fundamentals of Security and Defence of the Motherland” from September 2024). In higher education, the new compulsory course “Fundamentals of Russian Statehood”, introduced in September 2023, is notable.  Russia uses ideological allies abroad and has launched new international platforms to promote its message – in February 2024 alone Moscow hosted the ‘Forum on Multipolarity’, ‘International Movement of Russophiles’, and ‘The Forum of Campaigners against Modern Practices of Neo-Colonialism. On 27-28 March 2024, ‘The World Russian People’s Council’ announced that Russia is engaged in “a Holy War”, in which Russia and its people carry out the moral mission of the “Restrainer” (Katechon), “defending the world from the attacks of globalism and [preventing] the victory of the West, which has fallen into satanism”. Mystical and apocalyptical even nuclear motivations coincide with the rational.

The core tenets advanced are that: 1) Russia is a Great Power with a sphere of influence because it is a ‘civilization-state’ distinct from the West; 2) IR is about civilizational politics and Russia’s is best understood as the ‘Russian World’, which has no borders (Putin is an imperial nationalist not an ethno-nationalist); and, 3) Russia champions a counter-hegemonic project, one that constrains Western expansionism and seeks to break US hegemony and the unipolar system. In its worldview, Russia is partially aligned internationally with China, some forces in Global South (against the West as a colonial project) and radical conservatives/nationalists in China, Europe, South Asia, and the United States.

Russian decision-making in Putin’s 5^th term will be shaped and influenced by ideas and ideology, but the implications of exactly how are unclear. Current ideological production has more and less radical trajectories, from a militarised and semi-totalitarian ‘Z-nation’ fascist-style regime to neo-Soviet/late-Soviet style ideological stagnation that retains some technocratic pragmatism. The current trend is more towards revisionist, even revolutionary foreign policy based on anti-Westernism and anti-liberalism: Russia is now, “for the first time since the Bolshevik Revolution” a “revolutionary power” (Trenin 2024).  The public reaction to this new ideological content is uncertain, but if the ideological campaign is successful, elements of Putinism may outlive Putin, ensuring that confrontation with the West will remain a long-term challenge.  Russia’s ideology overlaps with and so has traction in parts of Global South, among radical national conservatives in Europe and United States.

Session 2: “Russian Future Conventional Military and Hybrid Threat Potential?” 

Russian decision-makers do not see the lessons of its war in Ukraine, particularly the failures in 2022, as the West does.  For Russia, failures were not primarily attributed to poor intelligence, logistics or leadership, but as a failure to generate critical mass at the outset. From a Russian perspective, while precision strikes can weaken an adversary’s capabilities, artillery and attrition will overwhelm the same over the long term but requires patience. High casualty rates are acceptable, particularly if an adversary is itself casualty-adverse (unwilling), or lacks the population to sustain them (unable). 

In terms of reconstitution, Russia’s military will remain a land-based power. Defense Minister Shoigu outlined some initial reconstitution steps at the Defense Ministry Collegium 22 December 2023.  Shoigu announced the military would increase from 1.1 million to 1.5 million, with contract soldier numbers rising from 405,000 to 695,000, and conscription age rising from 18 to 21 (making it more politically palatable to send soldiers into combat). There is discussion that the length of conscription service would be increased from 1 to 2 years, which would generate an increase of 300,000 men and allow for a single training cycle that combines conscripts with contracted. Russia has the potential for adopting one of two models for manning: the higher number of contract soldiers is preferred but a two-year conscription term is an option if not enough contract soldiers are recruited.

 In terms of force structure, Russia is moving from brigades to divisions, with a number of new and enlarged units in the two new Leningrad and Moscow Military Districts, created in response to Finnish and Swedish NATO membership.  Russia has had over 4000 confirmed officer deaths (most likely the real figure is double) and this is significant: the Russia military lack and NCO cadre; it will take some time to recruit and train the new officer corps. In terms of armaments, ammunition production has increased but production of more technologically advanced weaponry is likely to slow due to sanctions. Russia has had success producing UAVs at high volume but is still reliant on imports for machine tools and micro-electronics from/through friendly countries. For many categories of equipment, Russia relies on refurbishing Soviet legacy equipment (e.g. tanks, APVs) and this cannot be renewed once expended.

Russia’s navy, air and nuclear forces remain largely unaffected by the war, with the exception of the Black Sea Fleet.  If budgetary constraints are imposed, these services will lose out to ground forces, where degradation is the highest. The Russian navy is now detached from unified strategic commands with orders being centralized in Moscow and this is likely to impact Russia’s ability to carry out joint operations.  Capability gaps between Russia and NATO are set to increase as ‘Russia adapts backwards’, but even if the effectiveness and reliability of older Russian weapons systems increases, the Russian military still has the capabilities to hurt at this time.

In terms of the sustainability of Russian forces, a number of factors come into play. First, Russian leadership resolve to fight will remain a constant, but at what point is a notional threshold number below which a rational leadership would not deploy remaining tank and APV reserves (10-20% of remaining stocks)? Second, at what point and under what conditions might Russia’s partners, in particular China, be willing to see Russia fail and how much support would they give in order to avoid this?  Might North Korea allow 40,000 arms manufacturing workers – highly skilled no less – to move to Russia to help with Russian labor supply shortfalls and production? Substitution leads to degradation but not necessarily breakdown. Third, what is Russia’s own capacity to ramp up production and mobilize more troops, compared to Ukraine’s ability to match, or balance Russian quantity with Ukrainian quality? And, lastly, what is Russia’s ability to deter the west from supporting Ukraine through damaging sub-conventional or hybrid operations? 

Over the last two-years Russia has suffered the loss of a significant amount of vital intelligence and information operations assets in the West. Russian classic influence networks (including a generation of carefully cultivated VIP and business-related assets) have weakened considerably and diplomatic expulsions (Hungary excepted) have left Russia diplomatically isolated. On 9 May 2020 “Victory Day” parade in Moscow, for example, which was eventually postponed due to COVID, nearly 30 heads of states or governments had originally accepted the invitation. In 2024, by contrast, only 9 attended: the five Central-Asian former Soviet republics, Belarus, Cuba, Laos and Guinea-Bissau. 

But, from a Russian costs/benefits calculus perspective, diplomatically it now has little if anything to lose from using greater levels of violence and escalating hybrid operations. Rather the opposite, Russia has everything to gain: economic-industrial disparities determine that Russia cannot win in Ukraine if the West remains united and committed. It follows, Western resolve needs to be broken. In addition, Russia needs revenge against European states for their support of Ukraine: the greater Russian losses, the more radicalized and violent its response. To deter the Western support and break Western will and resolve to supply military aid to Ukraine, Russia can employ massive well-coordinated information operations (e.g. Taurus “information deterrence” intercepts) and actively sabotage the product and delivery of the supplies themselves on European soil. 

The GRU’s core original task was precisely to undertake kinetic sabotage behind the enemy front line, including assassinating civilian and military leaderships. It is easier to monitor and then attack arms production and centralized day-time routing across open Europe than the decentralized nighttime deliveries in war time Ukraine itself. The GRU has conducted Czech railway cyber-attacks targeting delivery routes, arms depots (Czech Republic, UK) and gradually escalates to test the limits. Russia moves from disruption to destruction. It can utilize unused aggressive potential, including the kinetic and information operations that can attack to inflame and weaponize migrant/minority tensions with far-right groups ahead of, for example, European Parliamentary elections. Russia experiences limited costs on its actions. Such operations can be understood not as a “second front” but a “secondary front” in support of the “primary front”, Russia’s imperial full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

Session 3: “Russia’s Triune Foreign Policy – Belarus and Ukraine?”

Unlike President Putin, as President Lukashenka lacks money (he practices “totalitarianism for the poor”) he is reduced to repression and narratives. In 2020, Belarus’ opposition conceivably comprised at least half of the population. No less than 10% took part in protest actions. That internal opposition is now extinguished by repression, while the external is demoralized. Lukashenka also uses narratives to compel and encourage loyalty. A core part of his narrative is to suggest that only his leadership prevents Belarus from entering the war (“he fears Russia but hates the West”), appealing to the clear anti-war consensus prevalent in the country, including amongst its military. Lukashenka does not have centrality, but acts as if he does.  Belarus is no longer a mediator (even June 2023 “Wagner” mediation did produce a “golden fish”), it is unclear if Russian nuclear weapons are deployed to Belarus, and attempts to weaponize migrants no longer provide leverage to coerce the West to engage. China did not invite Belarus to its 2023 Belt and Road Initiative conference, and its BRICS+ membership was declined. The SCO might be more susceptible to future Belarus membership and the BRINK (Belarus, Russia, Iran and North Korea) links are growing.   

Belarus has a clear utility for Russia. First, while Central Asian states are “balancing”, Lukashenka’s rhetoric and actions puts the “we” image into Russian foreign policy, providing the illusion of less isolation. Second, Russia can operate freely on Belarusian territory and through its airspace, in a manner unregulated by treaty. Russia controls Belarus through Lukashenka, negating the need for annexation of Belarus as a compensation for losing the war in Ukraine.  Belarus is too small and too friendly (unlike Moldova) to constitute compensation, with potential Russian justifying narratives lacking: Belarus as “Nazi” when 25% of its population died between 1941-45? “Russo-phobic” when largely Russian-speaking? Moreover, passive resistance among the population would be a real risk for Russia and the takeover would be costly. Third, a majority western approach is to assume variously that Belarus is simply an extension of Russia, rather than that Belarus is not Russia.

Were the West to increase sanctions against Belarus (and freeze its Central Bank assets?), given Belarus’ status as an “aggressor state”, then Putin would be forced to divert resources away from waging war on Ukraine towards subsidizing Belarus. Opposition media could clearly explain to Belarusians why the sanctions are increased. At the same time, the West could look to re-engage with a post-Lukashenka leadership in Minsk, by clearly stating now, in the late-Lukashenka era, the preconditions for engagement. These would include the release of political prisoners within a tight demonstrable timeline (i.e. 2 weeks), political liberalization, and economic reform, all in line with classic EU neighborhood policy. The objective of such ‘positive conditionality’ would be to encourage a reasonable post-Lukashenka government to come to power.  In the Putin narrative, war equates with “Victory Day” parades; in Belarus, war represents suffering. Unlike Russia, the population of Belarus is free from imperialist/great power sentiment and knows Europe far better.   

In Ukraine, leadership narratives are clear and centred on making Russia pay (justice and accountability) and lose the war.  Core narratives include: ‘Russia’s War against Ukraine is a Genocide’ (#Arm_Ukraine; #Bring the war to Russia; #No Territorial Concessions; #Mobilization); ‘Ukraine is a Shield of Europe / Western Democracies’ (#EU_negotiations_Fast_Track; #Security_Guarantees from Allies); ‘The impossibility of conducting negotiations with the President of the Russian Federation Vladimir Putin’ (‘The President’s Decree’, 30 August 2022); ‘No elections during martial law according to the Constitution’; ‘Zelensky’s Peace Formula’ (November, 2022, G20-Summit); ‘Crimea Platform’ (2021)/ ‘Law on Indigenous people in Ukraine’ (31 March 2023); ‘The Decree on the territories of the Russian Federation historically inhabited by Ukrainians’ (22 January 2024); and ‘The First Peace Summit for Ukraine’ (15-16 June 2024).

However, nuance is also apparent. When asked in polling, there is a very strong societal belief that Ukraine will win the war (as of February 2024 it stood at 88%), but only half that number (45%) defined “victory” in terms of the official goal of restoring Ukraine’s 1991 statehood. This might suggest that the sense of Ukraine as a nation is perhaps higher than that of a Ukraine as a fixed state: Ukrainian students in occupied territories attend lessons in Ukrainian language via zoom, including ones on democracy, reconstruction, but people who have left the country can be labelled as traitors. Tensions in the future will need to be managed as 65% of Ukrainian refugees declare they will return, and may compete with IDPs for access to the labor market, housing and health, and some may be Russian sympathizers, though Ukrainian passport holders. In addition, a desire for accountability and justice is driven by an understanding that the failure to hold Stalin accountable for famine and repressions in Ukraine emboldened Russia/Putin to resort to full-scale invasion and terror in 2022. Comparisons with Hamas 7 October 2023 attacks on Israel also resonate, not least the need in Ukraine for “Iron Dome”, societal resilience and a model of total mobilization. Ukraine needs to explore volunteering options.

From a Ukrainian perspective, Russian neo-Soviet narrative only grow stronger and will continue so for the duration of Putin’s life/presidency, while US 2024 presidential elections and potential policy changes are much more consequential. Both underscore the need to mobilize and continue a socio-cultural strategic reorientation away from Russia. Ukraine now celebrates Christmas according to the Western calendar, separating further from the Russian Orthodox Church and its “Holy War” against Ukraine and the West. Russia’s continued threat potential generates a human-centric approach to veterans, reservists and ‘human capital’ as mobilization increases, as well as the need for an indigenous armaments production and for enhanced STRATCOM that connects with Ukrainian society. Ukraine cannot afford to underestimate Russia’s military capabilities: the fact that such capabilities are inferior to the West’s is irrelevant if quantity swamps quality. For Ukraine, the July NATO summit and the Security Package being negotiated is critical as it represents insurance if US leadership and then policy changes, but expectations are higher than reality likely to deliver.

Session 4: “Putin’s 5^th Term Regime Threat Potential and Policy Considerations?”

• Putin’s 5^th term is understood as a continuity of hostility against the West by an “emboldened and angry” Russia, with the expectations that relations will deteriorate further as Russia’s threat potential evolves and worsens. Putin speaks more confidently and regularly about the war and Russia’s economic and mobilization potential is far from exhausted. This term will likely witness the greater use of repression, money and ideology to bolster his regime, all of which have policy implications. Repression can trend towards greater isolated, with Putin extinguishing a key post-Soviet freedom for ordinary Russians, open borders. The regime could also cut Russia off from global information space, imposing a sovereign Ru.Net.   
• The military-security implication of Russia’s enduring full-scale war against Ukraine has been to generate unprecedented levels of NATO cohesion, political unity, enlargement to two capable members, and the provision of materiel support to Ukraine. But NATO may “backslide” if the threat recedes. NATO must reinvigorate its defense industrial base, recognizing that it is a European force generation and US strategic deterrence competition with Russia. NATO needs to develop sustainment, prepositioned munition stocks, and rethink its defense plans given its extended border with Russia which creates a single North Atlantic-Arctic-Nordic-Baltic operationally and strategically unified space. Unlike Russia with its fixed in place forces, NATO has operational and strategic flexibility and through dynamic force employment that can rapidly create dilemmas for Russia. How do we fully understand US National Security Strategy “integrated deterrence”? How does Putin’s regime do so in the late 2020s?
• The political-strategic and geo-economic implications of 5^th term threat potential is also profound. Given Putin uses money to buy loyalty, maintain minimal standards and ensure the elite are broadly happy, the escalation of sanctions would create corrosive damage (Gazprom is de facto insolvent) to the Russian economy and Putin’s ability to fund the regime. Geo-economic pressure can more closely accompany western security policy. In principle, the balance of resources is currently in NATO’s favor: 12: 1 on PPP terms, 20-25:1 using less favorable indices, far exceeding 3:1 in the Cold War.  Nevertheless, while the West can win the “battle of resources”, Russia will prevail if it wins the “battle of resolve” by demonstrating the strategic patience to commit the resources to wage war and using hybrid ops to break western will.
• What is at stake if the US, Germany, friends and allies fail?  What might be the components of a “theory of failure”?  Moldova, Georgia, Armenia and Taiwan, as well as current BRINK adversaries, are able to measure in time and quantity of capabilities the resolve of the West to support partners, uphold values, offer security assurances and commitments and draw appropriate lessons. Linkages and ties between Ukraine, the war in the Middle East and an unstable North Korea are evident. The BRINK consortium will become more closely aligned, particularly their military capabilities and technologies, increasing risks of escalation and decreasing global and regional stability at a time when the West suffers huge reputational costs.
• In analyzing and understanding risks of failure we reduce uncertainty and highlight the necessary trade-offs inherent in a successful strategy, which must, above all, prevent the worst outcome. With regards, for example, to BRINK links, are there opportunities to exploit the dilemmas inherent within this grouping? China is one of the most important variables for the progression of this war. How should the West convey its preferences for Chinese behavior?  What role might India play? 
• Putin’s assertion that “liberalism is dead” demands democracies renew, actively and confidently, the case for liberal democracy, making a more principled and self-interested case for its continued utility. A first step avoids drawing red lines between “the West vs the rest” (Russia’s narrative) and allowing strategic ambiguity to become a synonym for “self-deterrence”. A second step is to demonstrate in deeds that democracies have resilience, strength, can defend their values and demonstrate resolve and efficiency in war. In democracies, the state serves the people. Such a message is reaffirming, has global appeal.  Ultimately, though, one truism is universal: nothing succeeds like success.

Context: Thirty experts met at a GCMC-sponsored Workshop in Berlin on 7 May 2024 to form a better understanding of Putin’s regime threat potential and policy implications. This report synthesizes the presentations of Yuliya Bidenko, Fabian Burkhardt, Dmitry Gorenburg, Nigel Gould-Davies, Frank Hagemann, Nataliia Haluhan, Graeme Herd, David Lewis, Arkady Moshes, John Neal, and András Rácz and subsequent participant discussions.

Disclaimer: This synthesis, drafted by Graeme P. Herd, does not necessarily reflect the official policy of the United States, Germany, or any other governments.  GCMC, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, 10 May 2024.

This is a summary of the discussion at the latest of the current series of online Strategic Competition Seminar Series (SCSS) webinars held on 16 April 2024 by the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies (GCMC) in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. The summary reflects the overall tenor of the discussion, and no specific element necessarily should be presumed to be the view of either of the participants. 

Introduction

A defining characteristic of “Putinism” is its lack of clarity, its active “blurring – of past and present, war and peace, internal and external threats, military and non-military tools, the merging of Putin-regime-state, and perception and reality. Putin deliberately does not offer a policy map or blueprint for the future. Putin avoids ideological certainty in order to maintain room to maneuver and to have strategic autonomy as a leader.” (FY24SCSS#1).  At the start of Putin’s third term in 2012, state-controlled institutions asserted that Putin embodied “historical-charismatic” legitimacy (“No Putin no Russia”) rather than “legal-rational”.  He was in power because only he could defend Russia as a “civilizational state”. This mode of legitimation of Putin’s political authority lends itself to reinterpreting the past but also forces elites to articulate more clearly what that civilizational space is and in a post-Westphalia global order run by civilizational states, what norms apply and how these entities should interrelate. 

In April 2024, on the eve of Putin’s fifth imperial term, this seminar addresses the prospects for ‘domestic decolonization’ in Russia itself in territorial and mindset terms, before looking to how historical perception determines Russia’s attitude and aggression towards Ukraine and shapes its influence in Central Asia.  Ukraine and Central Asia generate competing geospatial constructs: Eurasia and Russian World.  We then move to Russia in the Middle East, outside the borders of a four-hundred-year-old historical land-based empire, and note that current turmoil tests Russia’s strategic relevance.  Finally, we adopt a global and maritime frame, examining Russia’s World Oceans strategy and what this tells us about future plans and Russian predictive thinking, before concluding.

Domestic Decolonization

Calls for Russia’s ‘territorial’ decolonization as the ideal or at least preferred Russian end state are dangerous. First, it confirms Putin’s narrative that the West seeks the disintegration of the Russian Federation and the end to Russian statehood. Second, it makes confrontation with the West existential and so risks escalation.  However, decolonization of an imperial mindset, through a generational process, might be triggered by Russia’s defeat in its war of imperial conquest in Ukraine.  Such a defeat could have a catalyzing effect for Russia, akin to the impact of the French defeat in Algeria in 1962 or when Britain had to come to terms with the loss of its Empire in Suez in 1956.

Imperial tsarist Russia, the Soviet Union and Russian Federation proved to be effective imperial managers.  In the tsarist period, they were able to propagate unifying multi—ethnic and multi-faith ideologies and mobilize populations around a tsar with the divine right to rule. In the soviet period anti-colonial and anti-imperialist ideologies promised “free peoples a post-imperial socialist future” and created a Soviet identity.  In contemporary Russia, Putin has likewise sought to create an overarching notion of Russia state patriotism. Besides, brutal “forced resettlement” (for Tatars in Crimea, Chechens, Kalmyks) and the spread of ethnic Russian and Ukrainian colonists in the Soviet and tsarist periods has effectively broken the potential of titular nationalities to press for greater autonomy and even independence.

For Putin, poverty rather than ethnicity is seen as a marker for loyalty towards his regime and support for the “Special Military Operation” (SVO) in Ukraine. Correlations between high poverty rates and high levels of participation in the SVO and so higher casualty rates among the poorer population highlight a potential problem for the future. While the populations of Moscow and St. Petersburg, Moscow and Leningrad regions and Chechnya receive greatest federal funding and have the lowest per capita casualty rates, the poorest provinces receive the least federal funding and have the highest level of casualties. Disparities in federal funding, which is a function of politics and coup-proofing (reducing socio-economic tension in the traditional capitals), creates a perverse incentive for poor but loyal peripheral regions to build narratives around the prospect of immediate social unrest.  High casualty rates provide the ostensible trigger for potential social explosion and so increased federal funding to mitigate the risk.  The Soviet experience of Afghanistan illustrates how such narratives of suffering, now latent in the Russian Federation in the context of the SVO, can become narratives in the periphery to mobilize local support against what becomes a capricious center deliberately directing suffering.

Russia and Ukraine

The Russian Federation has since its inception consistently viewed former Soviet space or its “Near Abroad” (a term that received its first official usage in Russia’s Foreign Policy Concept, March 2023, even though it has been ubiquitous in public discourse since the 1990s) as a zone of influence if not control.  The states of the former Soviet Union (FSU) were accepted as independent by Moscow, but seen as less fully independent than other states. Ukraine is the most important of former imperial territories for two reasons: geography bestows on it an unparalleled strategic significance and it has a central role in Russia’s national identity narrative.

Ukraine shares a 2000km border with Russia and lies 500km from Moscow. Furthermore, in its east and south the land is generally flat but its western border mountainous. Control of Ukraine thus gives Russia strategic depth and protects ground approaches to the Volga-Don region, Russia’s heartland. In addition to being a shield for Russia, Ukraine’s long Black Sea maritime border provides Russia a springboard to project power to the Mediterranean. In terms of national identity narratives and memory politics, “Kievan Rus” is posited as the origin of Russian statehood (even though the concept of “state” was alien to the 11^th century), Crimea as the location of the first Slavic conversion to Christianity and Ukraine presented as part of Russia’s imperial core.  Ukrainians are presented as close to Russians but lesser.  Their language is understood by Russian elites to be an unsophisticated country bumpkin-like dialect of Russian, they are referred to as “little brothers”, with Ukraine itself referred to as Malorossiya or “Little Russia”.   

Loss of control of Ukraine is also understood in domino terms – lose Ukraine; lose influence in the rest of the “Near Abroad”. For these reasons, in Russian thinking the use of military force prevent Russia from losing influence is justified.  Russia’s preferred end state for Ukraine appears to be dismemberment and subjugation: to incorporate the east and south into Russia and render the rest a puppet state under Russian control. 

Russia’s role in Central Asia and wider Eurasian thinking

In 2022, analysts suggested that Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine would lead to a diminution of Russian imperial influence in Central Asia, but trade, investment and labor migration figures do not support this “unravelling of empire” thesis, nor has the expected diminution of Russia’s military presence and footprint in the region materialized.  Russia’s empire is not “unravelling” but mutating, and in some important respects, Russian ties with Central Asia have become stronger and intensified, not despite but because of the war.

Trade with Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan has increased.  As trade ties between Russia and the EU have been severed, Central Asian EU-trade has increased to allow the reexport of EU goods (including dual use) to Russia through the Eurasian Economic Union (EEU), which has become an effective mechanism for sanctions avoidance. To give one (illustrative) example, German luxury car export to Kyrgyzstan has increased by 31,000%.  A major Russian gas deal with Uzbekistan and a $6bn coal deal with Kazakhstan, where almost 50% of foreign companies registered are now Russian, attest to an intensification of ties. In addition, the multi-modal Middle Corridor was expected to replace the sanctioned Northern Corridor running through Russia. But the Middle Corridor still faces infrastructure bottlenecks and the Northern Corridor now transits pre-war volumes again. Central Asian labor migrant remittances have increased, constituting 20% of Uzbek GDP, and higher percentages in Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. Lastly, the military balance in Central Asia has hardly changed, despite Russia’s often weak performance in Ukraine. Russia maintains its military presence in the region. 

But some important changes can be noted.  First, Central Asian states have greater opportunities to define and diversify further their cherished multi-vector foreign policies, as attested by a Central Asia-Gulf Cooperation Council foreign minister meeting in Tashkent this weekand the ever-existing presence of China in the region.  Second, two spatial ideas in Russian thinking – “Russian World” and “Eurasia” – are increasingly divergent and potentiallyincompatible, suggesting split views and strategic priorities within the Russian elite.  Eurasia suggests a wider Slavic-Turkicspace, an openness to labor migrants and imperial nationalism.  The “Russian World”, by contrast, is a narrower concept, based on Russian Orthodoxy, the notion of triune people (Russians, Belarusians and Ukrainians) and ethnic nationalism.   

Russia and the Middle East

Escalating tensions and instability in the Middle East have, unexpectedly, highlighted Russia’s absence, lack of influence and strategic irrelevance in the region. In the mid-Soviet period, the USSR first gained traction in the region, positioning itself as a leader in the anti-colonial struggle, avowedly anti-American, and the prime mover in of the socialist camp, establishing ties with Algeria, Libya, Egypt, Syria and South Yemen.  Influence gains made in the 1960s and 1970s largely evaporated through the 1980s following the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979. President Putin was able to capitalize on the Arab Spring in 2011 to promote Russia as a defender of the status quo, even if maintained by a military coup (Egypt) or suppression of the society (Syria) and an enemy of “revolutions”.  Russia’s anti-Americanism and its perceived counter-terrorism success in Russia and Syria, and its role as leader of Orthodox Christianity all promoted its “brand” and increased its influence.  But this Russian brand, so strong between 2011-2022, has similarly evaporated.   

The diminution of Russian influence in the Middle East is attested by numerous factors.  SIPRI data highlights falling Russian arms exports to the region.  A schism within the Orthodox Church, with Greece and Bulgaria for example supporting the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, not Moscow, diminished Russia’s religious leadership status. In addition, Russia’s reflexive denial and deflection (“it was Ukraine and the Anglo-Saxons”) response to the reality of the ISIS-K Crocus City Hall terrorist attack in Moscow undermined its own discourse towards Islam and Muslim labor migrants. The ISIS-K brand is very familiar in the Middle East and Moscow’s ambivalence is seen as a sign of weakness, undermining Russian claims of spiritual-ideological leadership. Russia’s connection to the Middle East through Türkiye has been weakened despite Putin’s personal ties with Erdogan and extensive economic ties. In Syria, Russia has withdrawn air defense systems for use in Ukraine, leaving Syrian skies open to Israel.  The “Syria Express”, a sea-bridge bringing supplies to Latakia and Tartus, is disrupted and supplies to these two Russian bases, are diminishing.  As for land troops, the Wagner PMC in Syria is in disarray, with the GRU unable to exert control over it.

Russia can maintain transactional ties to Iran and it can still veto UN Security Council Resolutions, but it lacks the ability to influence Iranian policy.  Overall, Russia’s military operation in Syria looks static, with the potential for geopolitical debacle.  At the same time, US influence and leadership in the region appears indispensable, further eroding Russian narratives.   

Russia’s world ocean strategy

World Oceans cover 70% of the earth’s surface and hold 80% of economic potential.  For Russia, different oceans have different functions.  For example, the Atlantic Ocean (including the Baltic, Black and Mediterranean Seas) is critical for Russian logistics and communication flows, the Arctic for sovereignty, security and as a resource base in need of development, the Pacific for connectivity and fisheries, the Indian Ocean for port calls and Myanmar, while the Southern Ocean for resources and dueling with China.

Russia adopts three different types of approaches to engaging in these oceans: unilateral, bilateral and multi-lateral. Unilateral efforts are evidenced by the development of Russian national strategies, foreign policy concepts and doctrines.  Here, oceans are characterized as in Russian vital national interest, Russia distinguishes between living and non-living resources and the importance of flying the flag, maintaining and promoting Russia’s presence and great power status.  Bilateral efforts in the Arctic involve the development of the Northern Sea route with China and in the Southern Ocean and Antarctica with India not (China), which helps Russia with resupplies. (India and Russia support each other’s resupply missions via the South Africa gateway.  China used to use Australia but has since purchased most of Argentina’s gateway port). Russia signs bilateral agreements to facilitate port calls that promote Russian hydrocarbon investments.  Multilateral efforts are evident in the Indian Ocean where Russia carries out joint naval exercises with Iran and China and in the development of North-South trade corridors from the Arctic Sea to the Indian Ocean.  Multilateral treaties are another way to engage.  Interestingly, Russia blocks consensus amongst parties to the Antarctic Treaty for further maritime protection, that is to say, it opposes the expansion of further maritime protection. 

Russia faces a number of challenges in realizing its goals and pursuing its interests in world oceans, mainly because the means to achieve its ends need to be updated and modernized.  For example, weaknesses in shipbuilding and technology-related issues are exacerbated by sanctions. Both Russia and China lose the sea-bed mining race, as India surges ahead, naval military and commercial port infrastructure need investments, and Russia faces personnel and workforce deficits. For Russia, partnership with China is the solution with China exporting LNG platforms to Russia, exploiting sanctions loopholes, and alongside India and the UAE providing needed investments and technology. 

Conclusions

The notion of Russia as a “civilizational-state” and the invocation of “Russian” history to justify and legitimize justification of contemporary imperial Russian foreign and security policy is a notable feature of current Russian discourse. Russia’s identification with its supposed “1000-year history” and misappropriation of the history of others (e.g. ‘Kievan Rus’) highlights, in reality, its indistinct strategic identity.  Imperial colonization and conquest begin before Russia itself becomes a nation and so outward expansion and overstretch becomes a defining characteristic and ingrained in Russian identity, strategic and political cultures and integral to Putin’s operational code.

The Middle East apart, the findings of this seminar suggest that we are not witnessing the “unraveling of empire”, but rather its mutation and evolution. Russia is able to manage existing challenges, though we can identify potential incompatibilities emerging pointing to future source of tension. Divergences can be discerned between what Russia says (narratives and discourse) and what Russia does. In effect, this is a split between the ‘intangible’ (mission, status, mindset) and the ‘tangible’ (money, resources, territory). This tension will be reflected in costs/benefits and how they are weighed in Putin’s risk calculus. The immaterial appears to currently outweigh the material and perception, for Putin, is reality. 

Disclaimer

This summary reflects the views of the authors (Dr. Pavel Baev, Dr. Elizabeth Buchanan, Dr. Mark Galeotti, Dr. Dmitry Gorenburg. Dr. David Lewis and Dr Graeme P. Herd) and are not necessarily the official policy of the United States, Germany, or any other governments. 

GCMC, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, 16 April 2024

This is a summary of the discussion at the latest of the current series of online Strategic Competition Seminar Series (SCSS) webinars held on 12 March 2024 by the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies (GCMC) in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. The summary reflects the overall tenor of the discussion, and no specific element necessarily should be presumed to be the view of either of the participants. 

Introduction

Russia’s occupation of Crimea in 2014 seized or sank a large portion of the Ukrainian navy.  In 2017 Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov asserted that Russia has built a “self-sufficient” (самодостаточная) grouping of forces in Crimea, and that Russia’s Black Sea Fleet (BSF) could assert naval “supremacy” over what was, in effect, a “Russian lake”. Ukraine’s own strategic identity and culture viewed itself as a land-based rather than maritime power, despite its long coastline along the Sea of Azov and the Black Sea. In February 2022, Russia’s full-scale multi-axis attack on Ukraine led the Ukrainian Navy to scuttle its flagship rather than having it captured. In the initial stages of the invasion, Russia looked to carry out an amphibious operation against Odesa. Ukraine appeared even more vulnerable, particularly in the maritime domain. Russian assertions of “maritime supremacy” appeared well-founded.

By March 2024, Ukraine, entirely lacking a traditional navy, has sunk or damaged around 30% of Russia’s BSF, which comprised approximately 80 vessels on 24 February 2022.  In November 2023, President Zelenskyy addressing the meeting of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Black Sea Economic Cooperation (PABSEC), and stated that Ukraine has seized initiative in the Black Sea and as Russia is unable to further use the sea as a military foothold to destabilize the situation in the region. On 2 January 2024 Zelenskyy went on to note that the isolation of Crimea and the related battle in the Black Sea which steadily weakens Russia’s military potential would become “the center of gravity of the war.”  The loss of Crimea, “the centerpiece of Kremlin propaganda,” would show that “thousands of Russian officers have died just because of Putin’s ambitions”. On 15 February 2024 NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg reinforced this conclusion, noting that: “the Ukrainians have been very capable of attacking the Russian Black Sea Fleet, they have destroyed a large number of ships” and highlighted “the great victories that Ukraine has achieved in the fight against the Russian Black Sea Fleet.”

We are witnessing in real-time a shift in the maritime balance of power in the Black Sea. This paper seeks to provide an explanation for Ukrainian success and assess the significance of this “sea change”.  Why, with hindsight, was 23 February 2022 the high-water mark of BSF operational capability? Given the BSF plays a support role for land-based operations, does its steady degradation have a strategic implication for the course of the war? 

Ukrainian Asymmetric Warfare; Russia’s BSF “active defense”

Ukraine has used a combination of unmanned naval vehicles (UNV) and missile strikes (SCALP/Storm Shadow) to great effect.  MAGURA V5 Maritime Autonomous Guard Unmanned Robotic Apparatus V-type are controlled via a satellite or a radio network and can be easily launched from any remote location. Ukraine has deterred BSF amphibious attacks, pushed Russia’s BSF out of the northwestern Black Sea and from Crimean seaports to the relative safety of the eastern Black Sea, thus lifting the blockade on its maritime trade and partially free its commercial trade, while also degrading Russia’s ability to carry out sea-launched missile attacks against Ukrainian land-based Critical National Infrastructure (CNI).

These advances also pressured BSF support for its Mediterranean Squadron and the maritime “Syria express” resupply effort for Russian forces deployed in support of the Assad-regime in Syria, rendering Russia’s posture in Syria much less flexible regarding withdrawal. BSF losses imply Russia’s operational presence in Syria becomes a trap. Ukraine has become a naval power without a navy.

Türkiye and Ukraine share opposition to Russian hegemony in the Black Sea region and as such are “natural allies.” Ukraine has become an indispensable element of Türkiye’s regional order strategy, serving as a counterbalance and degrading Russian maritime power without triggering a Russian collapse, internal destabilization and radicalization. The 1936 Montreux Convention (Articles 19, 20, and 21) allows Türkiye to close the straits to military vessels in a time of war, recognizing Türkiye as the gatekeeper of the Black Sea’s naval traffic.  Only ships designated as belonging to Black Sea littoral states and home-ported in the Black Sea prior to the start of hostilities can have guaranteed access to the Black Sea in time of war. Thus, other ships of the Moskva-level in the Russian navy that did not enter the Black Sea before the war began cannot do so now. Türkiye geopolitically balances boosting defense cooperation with Ukraine, while avoiding joining the Western sanctions’ regime against Russia. Türkiye manages to be pro-Kyiv without being openly anti-Moscow.  Complementarities between Turkish and Ukrainian defense industries, as evidenced by Ukrainian jet engines considered for the Turkish KAAN jet and new-generation drones, and Türkiye constructing Corvettes for the post-war Ukrainian navy, are increasing and becoming more strategic.

The BSF evolved operationally through 2022.  In March and April 2022, the BSF prepared for an amphibious operation against Odessa in support of Russian ground forces that had “broken” out of Crimea, taken Kherson and then stalled at Mykolayiv. Given the role of the BSF is to support land operations, failure to advance on land put the amphibious support option on hold.

In the summer of 2022, the BSF focused efforts on enforcing a blockade on Ukrainian maritime trade (fertilizers, grain, industrial products) from its remaining ports to the Bosporus Straits and wider world. Ukraine’s sinking of the BSF’s flagship Moskva seriously degraded the BSF’s air defense and situational awareness in the NW Black Sea, a situation reinforced when Ukraine restored control over Snake Island and retook the “Boyko” oil towers “Petro Godovalets” and “Ukraine”, as well as the “Tavrida” and “Svyash” gas drilling platforms which had been under Russian control since 2015.  These platforms have mainly been used for logistical support of Russian operations as well as surveillance and intelligence gathering and monitoring of Ukrainian activities. As a result of Ukraine’s attacks, the BSF could no longer enforce a blockade. Deputy Prime Minister Oleksandr Kubrakov, and minister for development of communities, territories and infrastructure reports that almost 30m tonnes of agricultural produce has been exported from Ukraine since August 2023 via the Black Sea corridor established by Ukraine. More than 1000 vessels have used it since August: “In the shortest month of the year [February 2024], Greater Odesa ports processed eight million tonnes of cargo, of which 5.2 million tonnes were products of Ukrainian farmers. These are record export figures not only for the Ukrainian corridor, but also for the [whole] period of the full-scale invasion. We are gradually approaching the pre-war levels of export through these ports. Today, more than 90% of all agricultural exports go through the ports of Greater Odesa and the Danube ports. Ukraine remains one of the key guarantors of food security. This is especially true for grain exports to Africa and Asia. Since the launch of the Ukrainian Corridor, 42 countries have received almost 28 million tonnes of cargo, including 19 million tonnes of grains and oilseeds.” As of 1 March, 113 vessels were currently waiting to enter the ports of Odesa, Chornomorsk and Pivdennyy, with almost three million tonnes of cargo to be exported.

The third evolution of BSF core mission began in the fall of 2022 and here the focus was sea-launched Kalibr cruise missile attacks on Ukraine’s CNI. Ukraine countered by UNV attacks on Kalibr-carrying BSF assets as well as the port of Novorossiysk.  In 2022 it is estimated that the BSF could fire a Kalibr salvo of 70 missiles, today salvo capacity is said to be 40. Unconfirmed reports suggest that, once fired, Kalibr cruise missiles can only be reloaded at Sevastopol where BSF assets can be more easily targeted by Ukrainian UNV or missile fire. 

Russia and the Strategic South

Any Russian objective assessment of its role within the “strategic south” will need to acknowledge the impact of the progressive destruction of Russia’s BSF and its implications for Russia.  First, Türkiye emerges by default (Ukraine’s slow decimation of the Russia’s BSF) and by design (due to its own shipbuilding program) as the dominant Black Sea maritime power. Russia’s attempts to reinforce the BSF in late 2021-early 2022 resulted in weakening of the amphibious capabilities of the Baltic and Northern fleets, which cannot be restored in the near term. Many intelligence analysts in the Baltic region warn that Russia can rebuild the military capacity to threaten its neighbors in 3-5 years, but in the Black Sea theatre, restoration of Russia’s capacity for projecting maritime power cannot happen in such time horizon. Russia will not be able to rebuild its BSF naval assets as, while the war continues, Türkiye can enforce the Montreux Convention.  In short, Russia has lost the capacity to project force from beyond the Black Sea and force projection within it is circumscribed. 

The degradation of Russia’s BSF (20%+ in the last 5 months alone) is critically enabled by NATO support for Ukrainian targeting by manned or unmanned AWACs-type assets that can provide real-time information to the Ukrainian Armed Forces.  By contrast, Russia’s BSF is effectively blind, reflecting the loss of command and control flagships such as the Moskva and Admiral Makarov, the destruction of Il-20M/22 and A-50 AWACS aircraft and sensors on hydro-carbon infrastructure and Snake Island in the NW Black Sea. Russia’s A-50 is able to ensure quick coordination between sea, air and land assets, especially the air force and missile forces. The steady destruction of these enabling assets reduces the intensity of Russian land force operations. As result, and uniquely, one combatant with no surface ships but excellent targeting capabilities degrades the large surface fleet of the other combatant, which suffers from inadequate targeting ability.  Ukrainian naval drone “wolf packs” are easily detectable from the air, but the BSF is lacking the air surveillance capabilities.

 Historically, the BSF’s degradation and even destruction is more traditional than not.  It was a factor in the Crimean War (1854-55), Russo-Japanese War (1904-1905), the First and Second World Wars and now again after 2022. What is clear though, is that today the importance for Russia of holding onto Crimea far outweighs BSF losses. In this sense, for Russia Crimea is the “center of gravity” in the Black Sea, not the BSF, and as such retention of Crimea is of paramount importance. In addition, BSF degradation has not impacted on the volume of Russian maritime trade from Crimean ports (stolen grain and other commodities from the occupied territories of Ukraine) and Novorossiysk to global markets, but western sanctions have. For Russia, the center of gravity in this war is its ability to maintain a military numerical superiority in the land-based main theatre of operations. Here Ukraine’s shortage of manpower is critical to its ability to fight and constitutes a potential game-changer unless it can be addressed through a new round of mobilization. Europeans are on track to address artillery shells and other ammunition deficits and the Pentagon has just made a surprise announcement about a $300 million weapons package for Ukraine, the first batch of US military aid this year.   

Increased interest in and vision for the region from the US and NATO – part of the US Black Sea Strategy – highlights the twin realizations that “what happens in the Black Sea does not stay in the Black Sea” and that the Black Sea itself should be understood as an enlarged geo-strategic space, as it begins in Iranian ports on the southern shores of the Caspian Sea, linked through the Volga-Don canals to the Sea of Azov (now a Russian lake) and then the Black Sea itself.  It becomes an arena of strategic competition between Iran and Russia, Ukraine and the West, with Türkiye playing a delicate balancing role and China’s increasing engagement in the region.  This finds expression, for example, in joint Russian-Iranian drone production and emphasis on north-south trans-Caspian trade routes and China, Türkiye and Ukraine on east-west “Middle Corridor” routes. 

Conclusions

Occupied Crimea’s presumed A2/AD “bastion” is downgraded, but the logistical hubs still operate near full capacity. Ukraine’s ability to systematically degrade Russian military assets in Crimea is as yet unproven.  F-16 and Taurus deliveries will make a difference, as will the continued availability of real-time targeting information supplied by NATO member states, but the question remains as to how even best-case scenarios regarding Ukrainian maritime domain successes impact the course of land warfare.

Ukrainian highly visible and well publicized successes in degrading Russia’s BSF resonate with the Ukrainian public and signal internationally Ukraine’s will to fight. These successes have also changed perception and narratives.  First, Russian naval power projection has taken a hit, as has the supposed efficacy of its maritime capabilities. Second, after amplifying Russian “red line” threats of an “instant” and possibly nuclear “Judgement Day” retaliation (Dmitry Medvedev July 2023) if Ukraine dares to attack Crimea, the pro-Kremlin media on the peninsula began by ignoring or downplaying the devastation attacks on 13 September 2023 to Sevastopol’s dry docks (“not critical”) and on a BSF landing ship and submarine. As a result, and third, Ukrainian military successes have brought the status of Crimea back into play.  The notion now of de-occupation of Russia’s supposedly sacred territory is a reality.  Crimea has been reduced in status to other occupied Ukrainian territory and its Russian-controlled airfields, ports and maritime vessels are all legitimate military targets.  This was not the practice even if it was de jure the case prior to 24 February 2022. Ukraine gradually demilitarizes Crimea – through targeting military assets or deterring Russia from stationing its fleet in Crimean ports – and in this sense de-occupies it as well.

The Kerch Bridge may become a symbolic target. In this respect, the targeting of BSF air and sea defense platforms or cross-strait ferries that enable military logistics has the same effect in closing the bridge as would hitting it directly. Indeed, Russian land-routes connecting the Crimean isthmus with Russian occupied Ukraine are much more vulnerable and consequential than the Kerch strait bridge itself.  In addition, deterring the 5 million Russian tourists that visited occupied Crimea in 2023 would also undercut the economic viability of the most significant of Russia’s territorial conquests. Lastly, constant low cost highly visible Ukrainian attacks on Crimea suck in Russian forces to defend the territory (Rosgvardia, air defense, combat aviation) and so reduce available manpower from the rest of the battle front.

Disclaimer

This summary reflects the views of the authors (Dr. Pavel Baev, Dr. Yevgeniya Gaber, Dr. Dmitry Gorenburg and Dr Graeme P. Herd) and are not necessarily the official policy of the United States, Germany, or any other governments. 

GCMC, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, 12 March 2024.

This is a summary of the discussion at the latest of the current series of online Strategic Competition Seminar Series (SCSS) webinars held on 19 February 2024 by the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies (GCMC) in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. The summary reflects the overall tenor of the discussion, and no specific element necessarily should be presumed to be the view of either of the participants. 

Introduction

Between 15—17 March, Russians will vote in a presidential election and incumbent Vladimir Putin will be inaugurated on 7 May 2024 (technically for his first term after the constitutional changes of January 2020).  Although a major national event, in practical-procedural terms this election’s outcome is preordained. Russia’s Central Election Commission (CEC) ensures that Putin runs against state-sanctioned blank-slate “systemic opposition” stand-ins (i.e. the imitation opposition) and uses the pro-war symbol Latin letter “V” in the colors of the Russian flag alongside the words “Together we are strong — vote for Russia!” to promote the election. The slogan and symbol underscores Dmitry Peskov’s remark in October 2023: “our presidential election is not really democracy, it is costly bureaucracy. Mr. Putin will be re-elected next year with more than 90 percent of the vote”.

Paradoxically, however, as the election is stage managed and tightly controlled to give the illusion and legitimacy of a democratic ritual, it is not the outcome but how the stage itself is managed and by whom that is revealing. What level of effort did the regime need to put in through pre-rigging and other means to isolate the opposition and narrow the gap between the announced and achieved result? Turnout matters.  In the 2018 presidential elections, Putin received 76.7% of the vote with a 67.5% turnout. Whatever the overall percentage split in 2024, this 2018 benchmark will be topped. The total number of voters in the Russian Federation as of January 1, 2024 is 112.3 million people a 4.39 million increase due to inclusion of new constituent entities of the Federation – Ukraine’s “occupied territories”. If the “new regions” had not been included then the number of people with active suffrage in Russia would have decreased by 168,162 compared to July 1, 2023.

Given the election’s inevitable outcome, we know the power of the presidency and so Putin’s agency. But what does the electoral process tell us about Russian thought processes, narratives and perceptions (Russia’s Rorschach test) as inferred by electoral strategies and practices? How, for example, does Aleksei Navalny’s murder in captivity impact the election?  What can the electoral process, including or even especially those in Ukraine’s “occupied territories”, tell us about the evolving nature of the Putin’s regime?  This regime is, after all, two-thirds in, 4 terms (2000-2024) with a potential next two-terms and so 12 years to go (2000-2036).  Will Putin use the new “mandate” to shape domestic and foreign policy goals through to 2030?  Which power centers or kremlin-towers compete to set the agenda and which are successful? Might the winners and losers of such power competition within the elite be reflected in post-election reshuffles? 

Navalny’s “Slow Motion Murder”

Aleksei Navalny died on 16 February 2024 in the “Polar Wolf” Correctional Facility No. 3 (abbreviated as IK-3, in Russian) maximum-security penal colony in Russia’s Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug. IK-3 is a ‘red’ regime, that is, a Russian prison where the local authorities and FSB exercise total control. Navalny was “purposefully” killed in a “slow motion murder”: his death attributed to poor prison conditions (i.e. it could have happened at any time); but decisions about the conditions of detention for prisoners of Navalny’s caliber come straight from Putin (i.e. it was inevitable).  

What does Navalny’s death tells us about perceptions of Putin’s regime and how it evolves?  First, Navalny’s murder illustrates that Russia has evolved from a hybrid authoritarian state that is managed through intrigue and dramaturgiia (political theater) to one that, lacking the murderous grandiosity of Stalin, has settled for “Banana republic” status (but without the bananas). His death does not necessarily signal that Putin’s “calibrated coercion” has ended (no mass arrest of public mourners) but it does suggest that any prior distinctions between traitor and patriotic opposition is now totally meaningless.

Second, can we contend that Navalny’s murder was a set-back for both the civilian political bloc in the presidential administration (First Deputy Chief of Staff Sergei Kiriyenko), responsible for delivering a stable and predictable election and Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which entertains negotiation on Putin’s terms?  Navalny’s death reinforces the notion that a murderous dictator cannot be trusted.  As President Zelenskyy argued: “Putin kills whomever he wants, be it an opposition leader or anyone else who appears to be a target. After the murder of Alexei Navalny, it is simply absurd to see Putin as the supposedly legitimate head of the Russian state.” Russia is not a “good faith” negotiation partner. This conclusion benefits those that provide Ukraine with security assistance and undercuts those that oppose it.  Elsewhere, the reception in Ukrainian society of Navalny’s death was muted, reflecting a mixed understanding of his legacy (both anti—corruption campaigner but also, at one time, a Crimea annexation booster) and indicating that there is little common ground between Ukrainian political sentiment and even liberal Russia. 

Third, the Free Russia Foundation and Navalny’s Anti-Corruption Foundation promote a 17 March “Noon against Putin” calling on Russian voters to go to polling stations at noon on Sunday 17 March, the last day of the three-day voting. When voting is the only legal act of opposition and when voters are offered a choice without a choice, visibly contrasting empty polling stations on the 15 and 16 March will undercut the legitimacy of election and allow opponents to the regime feel solidarity. 

Electoral Dynamics

We are within three weeks within Russia’s presidential election. The needless murder of Navalny draws a global focus to this anemic election – nothing else will. The approved so-called opposition candidates will play their designated theatrical role. Pre-rigged administrative measures, such as stretching the voting process over three days and the addition of completely uncontrolled online voting option applied to 29 regions, inhabited by approximately 38 million voters, will get the desired result with some plausible deniability. “Voter banks” can be deployed even if their numbers limited to the known realities of regional geographies.

As the function of the Kremlin-orchestrated “systemic opposition” is to pretend that there is politics in Russia and boost voter turn-out as a high turnout provide the necessary needed mandate. Which three candidates have been “green-lighted” to run against Putin?  Leonid Slutsky (LDPR), the chairman of Russia’s ultranationalist Liberal Democratic Party of Russia (LDPR) has all the unpleasantness but none of the unhinged charisma of his predecessor, Vladimir Zhirinovsky.  The 75-year-old Nikolai Kharitonov, the Communist Party (CP) candidate, represents an archetypal “D-Lister”. Vladislav Davankov (“New People” Party), a 39-year-old State Duma deputy speaker, embodies a strange combination of slickness and aridity with political adverts extolling “entrepreneurs”, “building robots”, and “new people”.

Putin’s political managers appear to have entertained two ways to frame the campaign.  First, a high-risk strategy that would focus on the war and allow an explicitly anti-war non-systemic opposition candidate (Boris Nadezhdin, ‘New Initiative’ Party) to run. Nadezhdin’s participation as an anti-war liberal candidate, followed by his inevitable defeat, would legitimize the election itself and thus Putin’s mandate and manifesto. The process itself would provide a safety valve (a “form of psychotherapy”), allowing anti-war parts of the population to let off steam in a controlled way.  His running would increase voter turnout and the collection of signatures would identify many who oppose the war – always handy in a police state.  But Nadezhdin’s running also risked a lower overall percentage of the vote for Putin, undermining the narrative of national cohesion and countenancing unpredictable elements in the election (with Navalny’s death, Nadezhdin’s anti-Putin anti-war but still patriotic message would have galvanized the protest-vote). 

Second, the path that has been actually chosen is to treat the election in a business as usual “nothing-to-see-here” legitimacy ritual in which one’s civic duty is to vote for Putin. On 8 February 2024 the CEC claimed to find 9,147 out of a sample of 60,000 voters’ signatures in support of Nadezhdin to be “invalid” and Nadezhdin’s challenges were rejected by Russia’s Supreme Court. The risk of Nadezhdin’s candidacy consolidating a war weary electorate and politicizing it, creating a protest movement, was judged too great and extinguished. Russian TV propaganda has once again presented Putin as an “independent”, a candidate above politics (no need to debate other candidates) and of the people, one who enjoys unprecedentedly high people’s trust and whose re-election guarantees stability and order and prevents “outside interference”. In this framing of the campaign, the war is minimized and talk of a “mandate for mobilization” forbidden, but so too is any legal, peaceful, electoral, evolutionary and moderate future democratic transition pathway.

As a legitimizing ritual, the election allows the state to top up its reservoir of political capital that it is then able to expend on future projects that may have high political costs but are deemed necessary nonetheless to achieve wider goals.  In this sense, its outcome can shape policy choices, such as mobilization (necessary if Russia is to mount major offensive operations in 2024), the balance between military spending and its effects on the economy and Putin’s sense of how comfortable and content the upper elite is with the broad direction of travel.

Voting in Ukraine’s Occupied Territories (OT)

In Russia’s lexicon, Ukraine’s “temporarily occupied territories” are deemed to be “new regions”, “new subjects” and “our historical regions”.  These regions first took part in a so-called Russian “referendum” in September 2022.  Almost 4% of Russia’s voters live in the “new regions” which consist of Russian-controlled territories in Zaporizhzhia region (470,342 voters), Kherson region (468,472 voters), so-called Donetsk Peoples Republic (1.97 million voters) and Luhansk Peoples Republic (1.65 million voters).  Martial law has been in effect on the territory of the “new regions” since October 19, 2022, by Putin’s decree. In 2023, electoral law amendments allow for a regional election voting under martial law (a CEC decision after consultations with the Ministry of Defense, the FSB and the head of the relevant region) that was a trial run for the presidential election, which the CEC approved on December 11, 2023.

As in Russia, the presidential election in the “OT” is an empty legitimation ritual. It is primarily about the process itself. The ability to hold the election consolidates Russian presence if it occurs with minimum levels of disruption or security threats. Holding an election successfully is a demonstration of the level of Russian control (compare e.g. elections in Afghanistan in 2019 where Taliban attacks and threats forced low turnout and demonstrated weakness of central government control). Russia’s Federation Council chair Valentina Matvienko states that the inclusion of the so-called “new regions” are “the culmination of their unification with Russia.” It also serves as an acclamation of Putin as leader, as underscored by the lack of even an imitation campaign contested by CP, LDPR or “New People”. The process coopts and binds “new collaborationists” to the regime (the extent to which this occurs highlights risk calculus based on predictive thinking) and so makes any future “de—Russification” or “”de-occupation much harder. It stress-tests the effectiveness and loyalty of local leaders and institutions, as they can be judged against the September 2023 regional election turn-out and so shapes future budget streams, promotions and OT reshuffles. Russia is aiming to politically consolidate its military occupation in such a way as to make any future territorial concessions much harder and to send a message that negotiated territorial trade-offs are off the table.

The “OT” are a laboratory for perfecting potential new electoral techniques, presidential and other, that could be then applied to Russia proper. First, the OT has a long pre-election voting period of a week or more within which election officials can collect votes by going house to house, which creates pressure on people to vote. Second, every territorial election commission can decide which ID can be used to vote in the presidential election, potentially including people holding Ukrainian passports: allowing citizens of Ukraine to vote undermines the procedural legitimacy of the election but boosts the performance legitimacy (i.e. total percentage).  A 70% turn out would be considered a success in the OT.  Third, in the “OT” much greater secrecy and classification of information about the election occurs than in Russia.  If these practices were taken to their logical conclusion, they might begin to question the need even for systemic opposition in Russia itself.

Conclusions

Putin’s fifth (or first) presidential term on 7 May 2024 does not provide a new political mandate or somehow itself act as catalyst or watershed triggering or signaling Russian near-term new change of policy course. Russian “encirclement” propaganda as propagated by Sergei Naryshkin, suggests that the US is planning to destabilize Russia by “activating” as a fifth column 80,000 Russian graduates of American educational and cultural programs, such as Access, Advance, FLEX, Fulbright, Global UGRAD, Summer Work and Travel and others.  Andrei Klimov, chairman of the Federation Council Commission for the Protection of State Sovereignty and the Prevention of Interference in the Internal Affairs of the Russian Federation, suggests West’s strategic task is to make an anti-Russian groundwork for the elections to the State Duma in 2026 and for the next presidential elections in 2030.

If then the election propaganda serves to uphold and reinforce current narratives around continuity and stability, we can expect that after 7 May 2024 Putin will adopt a wait-and-see approach.  He waits, first and foremost, to see the result of the US election on 7 November 2024 and then levels of US and European support for Ukraine.  If western support holds then this, not the election, will shape policy decisions around mobilization and expectations around the duration of the war. Under these conditions, Russia continues its long-term confrontation with the West based on kinetic military attrition in Ukraine and non-kinetic attrition of the West through information warfare and other means, not least increased “Global South” engagement based on “traditional” and “conservative values” to gain leverage over the West.

The elections do impact thinking around the post-Putin leadership. Near future consensus successors such as Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin, Moscow Mayor Sergey Sobyanin, Deputy Prime Minister Marat Khusnullin, Sergey Kiriyenko and Presidential Envoy to the Far Eastern Federal District Yury Trutnev have diminishing prospects as Putin moves to 2030.  Longer-term younger representatives of influential groups in Putin’s inner circle will now become more viable successors, looking to take over in the 2030s, including: 46-year-old Minister of Agriculture Dmitry Patrushev (the son of Security Council Secretary Nikolai Patrushev); 48-year-old Secretary General of United Russia Andrei Turchak; 54-year-old head of the Moscow region, Andrei Vorobyov (representative of the clan of Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu, the son of his close associate Senator Yuri Vorobyov); 46-year old Nizhny Novgorod governor Gleb Nikitin (Rostec); and former Minister of Economic Development Maxim Oreshkin.

Disclaimer

This summary reflects the views of the authors (Dr. Mark Galeotti, Dr. Dmitry Gorenburg, Dr. David Lewis and Dr Graeme P. Herd) and are not necessarily the official policy of the United States, Germany, or any other governments.  GCMC, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, 20 February 2023

This is a summary of the discussion at the latest of the current series of online Strategic Competition Seminar Series (SCSS) webinars held on 16 January 2024 by the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies (GCMC) in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. The summary reflects the overall tenor of the discussion, and no specific element necessarily should be presumed to be the view of either of the participants. 

Introduction

Former SACEUR Philip Breedlove (“Putin’s Chances of Winning Ukraine War Look Bright”, Newsweek, 14 January 2024) outlined three scenarios for the war, two of which involved a Russian victory. Breedlove’s article can be best understood as a political effort to push the West to realize that we and Ukraine are in the war together and need a shared strategy based on a common understanding of Ukrainian victory.  The West needs to “give Ukraine what they need to win” rather than “giving them enough to remain on the battlefield.” He argues that the West is “unable to think through what a defeated Putin means.”

2024 will indeed be a crtitical year in the comparative ability of Russia and Ukraine to rebuild their offensive combat capability. Western choices regarding training, materiel supplies, and security commitments to Ukraine will determine Ukraine’s ability to settle the war on terms that best advantage its state and people in the present and future. The outcome of the conflict has the potential to shape the logic of the international system, starting with Euro-Atlantic security order and the norms it lives by. But its effects will rsonate further afield, to impact security dynamics in the Indo-Pacific and thinking among non-aligned states facing more powerfyl adversaries about the on the utility of nclear deterrence – and so proliferation. This summary unpacks such stark propositions. 

US Assistance

Although a majority of US politicians in both the House and Senate support passing a$61bn aid supplemental spending package for Ukraine, some Republican Party representatives in the House are using the aid package as leverage to ensure stricter border controls with Mexico and restrict presidential powers regarding migration (“humanitarian parole authority”). Negotiations are ongoing, with President Biden summoning Congressional leaders to a meeting this week to discuss options. This aid package is not “money given to Ukraine” but rather will be used to purchase supplies that replenish US stockpiles that have been depleted in order to provide weapons and ammunition to Ukraine. The US could, in theory, further reduce such stockpiles without using the supplemental funding, but this would damage US force readiness. 

How dependent is Ukraine on US military assistance? F-16s, tanks and long-range missiles receive media attention, but and air defense interceptors and ammunition are more important for sustaining Ukraine’s ability to continue to fight. Ukraine’s ground forces are an artillery-first military and artillery need shells. At the height of Ukraine’s counter-offensive in Summer/Fall of 2023, Ukraine was using up to 10,000 shells per day, now reduced to around 2000 when on defense and conserving ammunition. The US is Ukraine’s main supplier of 155 mm artillery shells. There is a time lag between authorization of delivery of weapons and the actual delivery of up to 4 months – Ukraine is now receiving weapons authorized in last Fall. While Ukraine can survive a gap of a couple of months in supplies, but the longer the gap continues the bigger the problem it will have in maintaining its ability to fight.

European Support

The EU supports Ukraine through its decision to initiate accession talks with Ukraine, its commitment to Ukrainian victory along Ukraine’s 1991 state borders, and a Russia policy that seeks to punish and isolate Russia through economic sanctions.  The EU also gives direct aid to Ukraine. The EU aid package for Ukraine consists of a Euro 50bn (US $60bn) money transfer. This aid is currently held hostage by Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban who in a pragmatic and cynical fashion, but also perhaps from genuine belief that it is not if but rather when Russia “wins” and the status quo ante resumes, uses this issue to extract concessions from the EU. Hungary will head the European Council Presidency for 6 months from June 2024 and this affords it the opportunity to use delaying tactics but not the ability to fundamentally reshape EU policy. Bureaucratic battles will become more intense (with more ink spilt and paper consumed, to use pre-digital metaphors).  

But at the end of February, this package or something very much like it will be provided. Europeans can provide money, a crucial element supporting Ukraine’s war effort. But there is a disparity across Europe in terms of national leadership and political willingness to provide aid. The provision of aid by European states is not in and of itself a strategy.  Vague notions of 2024 also as a “building year” in terms of European coalitional support (in parallel with Ukraine’s regrouping for a major 2025 push on the battlefield) need to define the end objectives of its aid, goodwill and political support. If not exactly a strategy, the components are there.  First, allies and partners with shared values and consensus regarding threat assessment need to pull in the same direction and however ad hoc and organic the effort, the net effect is to tie Russia down and allies together. Second, milestones towards EU and NATO membership are crucial to western strategy in that they function to give Ukraine hope and direction and demonstrate to Russia that its windows of influence and strategic relevance are closing.  Third, there needs to be some kind of shared vision of endgame, outcome and how to manage it.  This is the most speculative and least defined.

 Managing the political challenges within the western coalition in the context of a long attritional war in which western “boots on the ground” are a strictly understood “red line” will be challenging. In July 2022, the UK and other Ukrainian partners, established “Operation Interflex” to train Ukrainian troops around a 5-week program.  The UK has also committed to a 2.5 bn pound 10-year security and defense cooperation (bilateral “security guarantees”) agreement with Ukraine.  Canada and at least 2 other G7 nations are close to opening negotiations with Ukraine with similar packages in mind. Though these commitments are not legally binding, these agreements should solidify resource support to Ukraine for the foreseeable future.  The idea of such commitments is to bridge the gap between the end of the war and NATO membership.

Might the US and Europe sequester $300bn of Russian assets frozen in early 2022, largely held by Euroclear, a Belgian financial institution, and the New York Federal Reserve? These funds could then support Ukraine’s reconstruction efforts (which may cost $1 trillion), boost Ukraine’s morale and hold Russia to accountable for starting a major war that inflicts costly physical infrastructural and other damage on Ukraine, acting as a down payment on eventual Russian war reparations. As this would also boost Ukraine’s macro-economic stabilization, this would allow western allies to pivot more of their own aid from economic to military support. Such a move would be unprecedented and might deter other countries from depositing their funds with Euroclear or holding them in dollars. In addition, as the sequestered assets would be used to compensate all states and private entities harmed by Russian actions related to the war, it creates perverse incentive for local actors, including the Russian state, to seize Western firms’ Russian operations, since such seizures would create more claimants for the money and reduce the amount of funding actually going to Ukraine. However, failure to seize Russian assets in the West would perversely signal that wars of aggression that violate International Law are permissible to the extent that they are not punished by the established financial system. 

Russia: Forward to Victory?

Russia is currently at peak performance in terms of its domestic arms production and is receiving materiel imports from North Korea and Iran. On 14 December 2023 at the hybrid ‘Direct Line’ and annual press conference, Putin made clear his goals regarding Ukraine: de-Nazification and de-militarization. The former entails full political control of Ukrainian domestic politics – whoever seeks autonomy and independence will be labelled a Nazi (down to the level of Ukrainian language teacher and museum director), the latter translates into imposed neutrality and Russia’s direct control of Ukraine’s strategic orientation. He also signaled that western support was weakening and that time was on Russia’s side. 

However, if such confidence, why does Russia waste manpower on high-casualty attrition attacks if Putin truly believes time is on Russia’s side. One reason might be that even at Russian peak performance, Ukraine is not struggling. Indeed, Ukraine has been able to carry out targeted spectacular missile attacks sinking Russia’s Large Landing Ship “Novocherkassk” and on 15 January 2024 a Russian A-50 AWACS and an IL-22 command post aircraft. In response to Ukraine signing its security and defense assistance with the UK, former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev responded on X with a tweet to the effect that if now the UK deploys “their official military contingent in Ukraine” this “will mean a declaration of war on our [i.e. Russia] country” and such troops would be targeted by Russian cluster munitions in Kyiv.

Five factors suggest that Russia, on the eve of Russia’s presidential election 15-17 March 2024, is set to lose the strategic initiative.  First, the EU’s aid package or its “Plan B” variant will likely be passed at the end of January.  Second, the US package has strong bipartisan support. Third, Ukraine’s Verkhovna Rada is set to pass mobilization legislation which will suffice for the next 6 months.  Such mobilization demonstrates to Ukraine’s western partners that Ukraine will do all that it can to defend itself and that its self-belief is unshakeable.  Fourth, seizure of Russian frozen assets is not contingent on collective action: the US may first sequester Russian assets held by the New York Federal Reserve, providing political cover for Euroclear to follow. The question then: how does Ukraine allocate money received in compensation for war damages? Fifth, Ukraine is set to acquire a set of new capabilities, including the F-16s (which might add to both interception of Russian cruise missile and for launching long-distance strikes), German KEPD 350 Taurus missiles (the decision is pending, but is certain to happen) in addition to more French SCALP-EG missiles (as announced by Macron on 16 January 2024), and the mine-clearance capabilities. Sub-regional western cooperative efforts, such as Turkish-Romanian-Bulgarian maritime joint task force may be able to utilize UK donated minesweepers to clear the Black Sea of Russian mines. 

Conclusions

Putin himself has restated what a Russian victory means, if only obliquely through coded phrases such as “de-Nazification” and “de-militarization”. With regards to “Ukrainian victory” – implicit assumptions need to be made explicit. One assumption is that if Ukraine breaks the “land bridge” to Crimea, Russia’s military effort collapses.  Another is that Ukraine is able to win the kind of total victory that not only restores it to its 1991 borders but removes any need for subsequent negotiations with Moscow. But might this only imply that the battlefront shifts to Ukraine’s 1991 state borders? Rather than “peace”, Russia continues to fight.

“If Ukraine wins Russia must have lost” is an equally shaky proposition in that although intuitive it reduces the war to a strategic victory/defeat binary. Such a black-and-white understanding does not account for the loser being the one which decides if it has lost. In other words, Ukraine may not be winning but Russia, as with the US in Vietnam (or the Soviet Union in Afghanistan), may decide it has lost. Russian leaders might decide at some point in the future that even with a continuing advantage in manpower and materiel, they no longer have the will to continue the fight. This then suggests that Ukraine can focus on a campaign of strategic humiliation to break the political will of Russia to fight by visibly puncturing Kremlin narratives and so undermining Putin’s standing within the state on the eve of his “first” presidential victory.  Current Russian personnel casualties (which range between 200-350K) and equipment losses are hardly sustainable.

A last factor is that of the US and predictability of continued support for Ukraine – of policy continuity.  Even in the Biden administration a shift in rhetoric from “for as long as it takes” to “for as long as we can” seems to be underway.  As far as a potential Trump administration, while a new law has been passed that prevents unilateral withdrawal by the president, a shift from transatlantic “burden sharing” to “burden shifting” will likely transpire. We may “touch this void” of a “dormant NATO”, but there is little if any discussion on the implications of and how this void might be filled by remaining non-US NATO members. Greater necessary investments in European defense industries and manufacturing is one clear implication. This possibility of such a radical rupture may prove the impetus to create a workable common strategy with Ukraine.  President Zelensky’s visits to Nordic and Baltic States and the UK prime minister’s visit to Kyiv points to Ukraine’s strongest supporters and perhaps the nucleus of a Plan B embryonic European (plus Canada) coalition in support of Ukraine post-NATO. 

Disclaimer

This summary reflects the views of the authors (Dr. Pavel Baev, Dr. Mark Galeotti, Dr. Dmitry Gorenburg, and Dr Graeme P. Herd) and are not necessarily the official policy of the United States, Germany, or any other governments.  

GCMC, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, 17 January 2023.